


Leggings

by queenhomeslice



Series: Leggings [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Pre-Canon, Promptis - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 16:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17811101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Noctis sees Prompto in compression leggings for the first time after one of Prom’s runs; he has Feelings™ about it.





	Leggings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.
> 
> Relationships: Some budding Promptis for y’all thirsty bitches, lol
> 
> Time frame: Just after high school, pre-game canon
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: I have not personally played the game, but I have watched my husband play it twice, so I’m fairly familiar with characters and etc.; however, there are bound to be things that I get wrong. I’m 500% Prompto trash.

 

Noctis knew that Prompto ran, at least twenty miles a week or some ridiculous amount. How one person could exercise that much, he’d never know. Training with Gladio was different. It was cardio, but with swords. And ethereal warping. So that kept him in pretty good shape. But running for the sake of it, just the monotonous pounding of feet hitting pavement or a gym floor or a treadmill...Noctis shuddered with mild trauma at remembering PE class. It'd been six months and he’d still do as little as physically possible outside of training. Noctis had barely made it in the required school physical education. It wasn’t what he couldn’t run or climb ropes or play dodgeball, it’s that he just didn’t want to. Prompto, on the other hand, had been a godsdamned track star. And he ate _vegetables_ , which made Ignis appreciate him. Noctis shuddered with mild trauma at remembering the one time he accidentally swallowed a carrot hidden in Ignis’ homemade curry.

 Noctis also knew that Prompto looked damn good without a shirt, so he wasn’t complaining about his best friend’s healthy habits, necessarily. Just not interested in following suit. He’d stick to training. He had muscle, too, so, that’s what mattered, right?

Except.

Except he didn’t realize just what the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy was showing off to the world when he ran. Noctis figured he ran in some loose-fitting basketball shorts and a shirt, like he had in high school gym. The prince wasn’t much for imagination, not just yet, when it came to Prompto, even though they’d kind of unofficially been “dating” ever since graduation. There’d been hand-holding, kissing, and heavy petting. They were talking about going all the way when they hit maybe their one-year anniversary; taking it slow and all that. Noctis wasn’t keen on waiting; he was the Prince and used to getting whatever he wanted, but held off out of love for Prompto. He knew his friend had major anxiety issues, and not to mention self-esteem issues; hence the running and vegetable-eating and being nervous about baring his body to someone else.

So Noctis just had half-naked Prompto to masturbate to at night, with everything else left to his admittedly small imagination.

Until.

Until _The Incident_ , as Noctis called it.

It was late one afternoon, and Noctis was on the royal grounds, just after training. He was sitting on the steps outside the specialized facility, downing a large bottle of water. He'd invited Prompto over; his best friend actually hadn’t been to the palace that much. His father had said, “Yes, of course, bring that nice boy over so he can take pictures or hang out with you or whatever it is you two do for fun,” and had retired to his study. Prompto had security clearance for almost everywhere. He’d been off on his own while Gladio had, as usual, pounded Noctis into the dirt during his hours-long training session.

Noctis sat on the steps, not really thinking about anything, drinking water and trying to cool down, wondering where Prompto had wandered off to, to take pictures or chat with Ignis, maybe?... when his wondering was stalled by Prompto himself.

Well. Just a flash of him, as Prompto ran by him in a medium-paced jog. He acknowledged Noctis with a nod and a smile and a quick, breathless “Almost done, buddy!” as he passed.

And Noctis, suddenly breathless himself—more so than when he had been fighting with Gladio—just mumbled a “Yeah,” as he watched him go.

Prompto was not wearing what he had worn in high school PE, or even at track meets. He was wearing a fitted black athletic t-shirt (made out of that shiny, moisture-wicking material that Noctis actually disliked), and fitted, black, compression leggings. And shoes, obviously. But.

 _But. Leggings_.

Noctis had barely registered the outfit until Prom had passed him, so Noctis watched his backside retreat. His sculpted legs, his tight calf muscles, the sound of his feet hitting the pavement. The tightness of his, _gods...the tightness of his ass_. It was criminal for him to wear something like that out in the open.

Then Prompto rounded a corner and was gone, rudely leaving Noctis to just sit there, dumbfounded, mouth hanging open with water dripping out like an infant incapable of knowing when to swallow.

Which would’ve been fine, had Gladio not found him a minute later.

“What’s eatin’ you, Princess?” Gladio kind of kicked at the prince’s back with his oversized foot.

Noctis shook his head and wiped his mouth. “Uh,” he said. “Nothing, why? Just...trying to cool off.” He scooted over so Gladio could sit if he wanted to.

Gladio smirked. The prince wasn’t exactly subtle when it came to Prompto. The Shield could read Noctis like one of historical romances that he loved so much. And when the prince was flustered, well. The goofy blond was usually the cause.

“Thinking of that scrawny boy toy of yours?” He sat.

Noctis whipped his head. “Stop calling him that.” He took a drink of water. “And he’s not scrawny. Just ‘cause he’s not, y’know. A fucking steroid-fueled tank like you.”

Gladio laughed big and loud. “Oh c’mon, you know I like the kid. He's decent, good at pictures. Funny, cheerful. Good at making you blush, which gives me plenty of fodder to work with.”

Noctis smirked. He couldn’t argue that last one. “Glad you like him.”

“I do, yeah. He's good for you. A good friend.”

Noctis smiled, genuinely. “Yeah, yeah. He...he is that.”

 

A little while later, Noctis was in the shower in his bedroom, and he heard the giant iron room door open, even over the cascading water.

“Noct? You in here, buddy?”

Noctis shivered, trying to ignore the spark that inevitably traveled south. “Uh, yeah! Taking a shower, Prom.”

The bathroom door was open. The bathroom in Noctis’ palace room was almost as big as Prompto’s downtown apartment. The shower was equally as giant, big enough for at least four people, with multiple shower heads shooting water at him from all angles, with an additional wide water fixture hanging from the ceiling to simulate rain. Noctis thought it’d be much better with two occupants instead of one.

Noctis heard nothing so he figured Prompto was just in the bedroom, maybe changing out of those godsdamned _leggings_ , and the hot water did nothing to help the prince’s growing southern situation. Noctis groaned a little and started to touch himself under the hot water.

“Noct, uh. Can I take a shower somewhere? I mean I know I have clearance but I don’t want to just go wandering around, looking for a bathroom.” Prompto had popped his head halfway in the bathroom door. “‘Uh, hey King Regis, can I borrow your shower?’” He laughed, then let it trail off into his signature awkward chuckle. He was still dressed. His prince, his friend, his...boyfriend, was not. Prompto stared at the silhouette of Noctis, and it was hard to miss his hand paused in front of him, seemingly between his legs.

Prompto shivered, his compression leggings not doing him a favor by restricting his budding erection. He waited for an answer.

“Um,” said Noctis. “You could, uh.” He brought his hand from his cock and rubbed the back of his head nervously, even though he was behind a door. “You could shower here?”

Prompto was taken aback by the slight desperation in his friend’s tone, not quite sure if he heard him correctly.

“You sure? Well okay, buddy. Cool, thanks. I’ll wait till you’re done.”

Noctis paused for half a second before realizing that Prompto was going to walk back out. “No.”

“Huh?”

Noctis sighed, then opened the big glass door of the shower and poked his head out. His raven hair was hanging in his face, and it obstructed his view, so he swept it to the side. Prompto was standing in the doorway fully, mouth slightly open, face still flushed, red across the constellations of freckles on his cheeks. The shirt was tight around him, and Noctis racked his gaze over Prompto’s admittedly impressive sculpted chest, arms, and abs. He saw what he thought might’ve been athletic tape around his right wrist, but that was inconsequential. Noctis knew what his friend looked like without a shirt. He wanted to look elsewhere. So he did.

He lowered his gaze and his breath caught in his throat. The leggings hugged everything about him. His hips, his legs, his balls, his dick. Which was half hard already. Noctis sucked in his breath.

“Dude,” said Prompto. “You’re like, undressing me with your eyes.” He was blushing and looking down, off to the side, as if that would somehow hide his body.

“I’ve never seen you wear, like. _Leggings._ Leggings, Prom.”

“What? They’re compression leggings. For running? You can buy them at the sporting goods store? They’re a men’s medium, you want me to pick some up for you, for training? Haha,” Prompto chuckled.

Noctis shook his head, water flying on the floor. “No, I, uh. I like how you look in them.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Dude, you’ve seen me in track shorts. You know what my legs look like...?”

“Not the same,” Noctis breathed. He felt the blood fully rushing down, now, the longer he looked.

Prompto said nothing, he just smiled shyly and clasped his hands, and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I feel like I’m on display.”

“You are. For me.”

Prompto grinned now, a signature mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, you’re the prince. You get what you want, right?”

“That’s usually how it works, yeah.”

“Sooooo,” Prompto started, in a sing-song voice. “You said I could shower in here. But you don’t want me to leave. So, do you want me to shower with you?”

Noctis’ brain malfunctioned for half a second, and he couldn’t speak. He thought he might’ve nodded, but he wasn’t sure.

Prompto smirked that easy, carefree, wicked, _knowing_ grin he only shared with Noctis. “Okay,” he said. “Does the Prince want a show, or...?”

Noctis nodded again, and slipped one hand behind the door to where the rest of his body was hidden.

“Ooooh, you’re gonna touch yourself while watching me? Wow. Hm. I think, hm. I think it might be more fun if you don’t.”

Noctis stopped his hand. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Prompto cocked his head. “Oh okay. Damn, you’re such a brat. I was looking forward to showing off for you, since you like looking at me so much. But, if you’re not gonna cooperate, I guess it’ll be some other time.” Prompto turned to walk away. “Let me know when you’re done.”

Noctis’ vision went blurry. “Wait,” he croaked. “Wait, please. Prom. Don’t.”

Prompto grinned again, turning back. “You gonna be a good prince for me?”

Noctis whimpered a quiet “Yes,” because that was all he could manage. He was rock hard from just Prompto’s teasing _words_ , gods, and just looking at him in the fucking _leggings._

“Hands where I can see them, buddy.”

Noctis brought both of his hands up to the edge of the shower wall and gripped it, knuckles white with anticipation.

Prompto made quick, but not too quick, work of his socks and shoes. Then he stood up tall, and stretched, flexing a little bit. Then his fingers came to the bottom edge of the tight shirt, and he lifted, reveling in the small, satisfied moan that Noctis made while he couldn’t see him.

Noctis unconsciously licked his lips as Prompto pulled the shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. He was still pretty sweaty, and combined with the steam-filled bathroom, his muscles just...stood out. And shone. Prompto was already like the sun for him, but his muscles, glistening in front of him, only for him, his own personal star...it was too much. Noctis’ cock was already hard, too hard, and Prompto wasn’t even naked yet. He stared at the freckles that dotted his chest, arms and shoulders, and wondered if he’d ever be able to count them all.

“You okay there, buddy? Don’t hold your breath, now.”

Noctis remembered to breathe. “Uh, yeah. I’m...just continue. And get over here. Hurry.”

Prompto wagged his finger. “Ah-ah-ah, that’s not the game we’re playing, bro. You gotta be good now.”

Noctis nodded, still gripping the glass wall, holding on for dear life, cock screaming at him, eyes blurry with lust, trying to just focus on Prompto and the leggings.

Prompto paused for a minute, breaking the cocky confidence. “Noct, you...you wanna really do this?”

“Huh? Oh.” He momentarily broke from his reverie. “If...if you want to. I don’t...I have hands, you know. I don’t really want to make you uncomfortable.”

Prompto shook his head, eyes watering a little bit. “I want to make you happy.”

“You already make me happy, Prom.”

“These leggings making you happy?” He winked.

Noctis laughed, then groaned. And just like that, Prompto was back to teasing, knowing how to get under his skin, blending his humor with affection and _gods_ , he was just so perfect, and Noctis couldn’t figure out how he’d ever lived without him. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, a dork who wears leggings. But who’s dorkier, the guy who wears leggings or the guy who’s severely turned on by them?”

“You got me there,” Noctis admitted, breath catching in his throat as Prompto hooked his thumbs inside the waistband. He watched Prompto’s face, neck, and ears blush as he sighed, steeled himself, and pulled them down. And off. And there he was, naked as the day was long, except for the white wrapping around his wrist, and Noctis’ brain went on autopilot again. He was trying to focus on so much at once: Prompto’s happy trail of little blond hairs that ran from below his belly button to the base of his cock; his actual cock, which actually _sprang_ up after being released from the athletic leggings; the freckles that just continued every damn where on him—hips, thighs, lower abs...it was too much. Noctis stared hard, committing his best friend’s nude form to memory as he stood upright again after throwing the leggings on top of the pile.

“You weren’t wearing underwear,” Noctis managed to squeak.

“Nah, they’re too tight for that. They’d just make a pair of briefs ride up, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Then, “You run around your neighborhood like that?”

“Yeah dude, like, almost every day? There’s a bunch of us runners, y’know. It’s like a community thing. I live in kind of a trendy part of Insomnia, remember? Little cafes and boutiques and other shit I can’t afford. Pretty hipster, actually. Like, half of the restaurants don’t even serve _meat,_ and there’s recycling bins everywhere. Juice bars on every corner, which is cool, actually, there’s this one that has a killer kale smoothie, and...”

“Prompto,” Noctis groaned. “You talk too fucking much.”

“Ooooh, sorry, Your Highness, I didn’t realize you were so impatient.”

“Don’t call me that. And I’m staring at you, naked. For the first time. And you haven’t let me touch myself.”

Prompto hummed as he crossed the distance between the bathroom door and the gargantuan shower stall pretty quickly. He leaned to the side of Noctis’ head and spoke low in his ear. “You like what you see?”

Noctis nodded, almost forgetting how to breathe again.

“You thinking of me running every day? In leggings? In front of the whole neighborhood? Girls and guys both look at me, y’know. I notice. And it’s kinda nice to be noticed. But every day when I finish running and I go inside my apartment, I take a hot shower and I touch myself while thinking of you. And I think about how you look at me. And I cum while screaming your name.”

And that was enough. Noctis’ hands left the shower wall and were on Prompto’s face as he pulled him underneath the water and kissed him hard.

Prompto’s hands found their way to Noctis’ hips; he squeezed the prince’s hip bones and Noctis moaned into his mouth, deepening the kiss, doing the thing with his tongue that Prompto liked so much. And then he lowered his hands and grabbed the base of Noctis’ cock, and his hips jerked forward so hard Prompto thought he was going to slip and fall.

“Easy there, buddy,” Prompto whispered in his ear.

“Prom,” Noctis whined.

“Gods, you’re such a pretty sight when you’re all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah, well,” Noctis breathed. “You’ve made me wait so long.”

“I’m sorry buddy. Nerves, y’know?”

“It’s okay. Just...don’t stop touching me.”

Noctis pushed his mouth into Prompto’s again, whimpering as his best friend touched his cock with long, loving strokes. And then. He felt another hardness—Prompto—against his own, and then Prompto’s hands were around the both of them, rubbing them together, getting into a rhythm as Noctis bucked his hips and tried to keep his footing under the water. His hands were on the wall around his slightly taller best friend, bracing himself, eyes squeezed shut as he blocked out all other sensations with the exception of Prompto’s hand on his cock, and Prompto’s hand on Prompto’s own cock, and both of their cocks pushed up against each other, hard, wet, and Prompto’s ragged breathing, and, and the thought of the _leggings_ , and how he never wore underwear under them, and about how everyone looked at him when he ran but Prompto was _his,_ and he moaned _his_ name when he came, and...

“Gods...Prom, I’m going to...fuck...” Noctis felt the familiar sensation pool deep within him and his balls tightened.

“That’s right, Noct. Come for me. Fucking Crown Prince of Lucis, hot and bothered over some commoner in compression leggings, what a fucking sight,” Prompto teased, stroking the both of them faster, and Noctis wondered how he could still form complete sentences. “Made you wait for it, bet you get off to me every night like a little bitch, picturing me without a shirt, huh? Isn’t that all you had to go on, like a horny school girl...”

Noctis shuddered and then cried out, loudly; _too_ loudly, probably, but he didn’t care, he gasped and choked and cried as he came in Prompto’s hand, in his big shower, hot water still blasting the two of them, Prompto’s dirty teasing still ringing in his ears as he jerked his hips, shuddering as he rode out the orgasm.

“Fuck, Noct, you’re so fucking hot...” Prompto’s voice trailed as he released his own load with a cry, hands still around himself and Noctis, knowing that his best friend was spent and to the point of hyper-sensitivity, but he didn’t remove his hands from around his cock or Noctis until he felt himself grow soft. He let go. Noctis’s arms were still on either side of him, shaking, as the prince came down from the high. He finally looked up at Prompto from half-lidded eyes still swimming with desire.

“Fuck, Prompto.”

Prompto winked and actually shot finger guns at him.

Noctis snorted, and almost died laughing. Prompto laughed, too, and clapped a hand on the back of Noctis’ neck. “You’re such a damn dork, dude,” Noctis said.

“I feel like we _just_ had this conversation.” Prompto reached his hands above his head and let the blast of the shower head rinse the cum from his fingers. “But uh, can I actually borrow your shampoo and stuff now?”

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah.” Noctis stood to the side and watched as his best friend washed his hair and his tight, lean, sculpted body. He was already threatening to get hard again when Prompto announced, “I’m done! Now how do you turn this water park off?” Noctis laughed, and they exited the shower, Prompto dressing in street clothes and putting the offending athletic gear back into his duffle bag.

 

Later, after Prompto had gone home and Ignis was picking up the dinner dishes, Noctis sighed, heavily. His father had already left the table.

“Gil for your thoughts, Noct?” Ignis said in his affected, caring way.

“He was...he was wearing _leggings_ , Ignis.”

Ignis stopped just before he put Noctis’ half-finished plate on top of his own. “Who?”

“Prompto. He was over today. And he ran around the grounds, you know, how he runs. For exercise. And he was in compression leggings.”

Ignis smirked. “You’ve told me this at least three times since Prompto left the grounds, Highness.”

Noctis pinched the bridge of his nose and actually whined. “ _Leggings_ , Ignis. I just...fuck.”

Ignis finished picking up the dishes and put a hand on Noctis’ shoulder in sympathy before retreating to the kitchen. “Don’t worry, Noct. I’m sure he’ll wear them again.”

Noctis sucked air through his teeth. “I’m, uh. Ignis. Drive me to my apartment, please. No, wait.” He picked up his phone and sent a message. And he got a reply. Then, “Prompto’s apartment.”

“As you wish.”


End file.
